


Little Lion Man

by kenporusty



Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, I might expand that just a little bit, I'm really sorry not sorry, M/M, gross abuse of feels, implied past Jed/Dean, meeting after a breakup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 06:58:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenporusty/pseuds/kenporusty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time seeing each other again is difficult, but Dean and Richard work out some snags in their past.</p><p>Implied past Jed/Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Lion Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [insaneboingo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/insaneboingo/gifts).



> As always, this is just a work of fiction, I don't mean to presume.
> 
> I hope the beginning doesn't clunk around, I pulled this plot line out of the beginning of the epilogue for Iridescent, so I had to hurry and delete references to Lee because they wouldn't make sense.

“Richard,” Dean greeted warmly, pulling the older man in for a hug that lasted maybe a few seconds too long to be polite and friendly.

“God, Dean, so good to see you,” Richard said lowly, pressing their chests close, patting Dean on his slim yet well muscled shoulders. He made a conscious effort to keep their hips separate.

“DEAN!” a distinct shout came and Dean had only a few seconds to square himself before ending up with an armful of squirming Irish Aidan Turner.

“Jesus, Aidan, calm down, it’s not like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you last.” Dean pushed Aidan away slightly.

“Been too long for me,” Aidan laughed turning and enthusiastically hugging Richard.

Richard shot Dean a look that asked if Dean had moved on so quickly. Dean responded with a laugh and a subtle shake of his head, the look he returned full of regret and longing.

So much left unsaid; he hoped to be able to say his peace now that Richard was back.

Adam bounced up to hug Richard. Aidan wrapped the short man in his arms and rushed him away to speak with the rest of the actors Ri.

Richard looked at Dean again under the lashes, tossing his head gently away from the knot of people. He crossed his arms, a sign he was worried about something.

Dean waved him to lead the way, following the taller man, trying not to worry at his lip.

“So,” Richard said, voice thick with some sort of emotion.

“So,” Dean returned, not meeting Richard’s eyes.

“I don’t know if this is the best place,” his eyes flicked to the roving press and cameras.

“Well, you made the first move, so talk or wallow in pain and self-pity,” Dean said sharply.

“Dean, I’m sorry how things ended. I should have worked harder to keep what we had. I, I shouldn’t have been so stupid.”

“You’ve said that before.”

They traded poses: Richard dropping his arms and Dean crossing his.

“And I mean it. If we can’t work things out, then I’m hoping that we can at least agree to be civil to one another during these pickups. For the sake of the movie and Peter, at least.”

Dean nodded slowly, “of course. I’m more professional than that. So, I’ll see you later?”

Richard bit his lip. It was red already from his constant nibbling. Dean wanted to tell him to stop, to kiss the lip and make it better. To be in his arms again, and feel their bodies move in unison.

But…

Things couldn’t be like that anymore. They were too different, and the distance was too difficult. They had their own projects, and their own lives, and Skype and phone calls only got you so far.

Dean thought too much of that first time in Richard’s trailer, that sinking feeling that he knew this wasn’t going to last.

“You know, it’s legal down here now, we could get married, you could join the army of about ten actors we have available.” Dean said jokingly.

“Dean,” Richard’s voice took on that tone when he wasn’t in a joking mood.

“Right, yeah, bye then. See you at dinner.”

Dean walked away. Richard watched him go, wiping away a stray tear under the pretense of rubbing his face. Jed wasn’t fooled.

He broke away from Adam, trailing his fingers along the young man’s shoulders as he hurried to the broken man hunching in on himself.

“Things went south, then?”

“You could say that.” Richard said, closing himself off.

“Don’t do that. Come on, let’s go get some drinks. You’ll feel better a few sheets to the breeze.”

“I hate that phrase.” Richard laughed once, but followed Jed as he led the way, picking up Adam and Aidan. Mark bowed out, Graham enthusiastically agreed, throwing an amiable arm around Richard’s shoulders.

Dean politely declined the offer for drinks, and went to his own car, driving himself to the studio and parking in the lot. He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, and stalked back to the trailer labeled with his name.

He shut the door, and flung himself on the bed, grumbling wordlessly into the pillow.

He didn’t hear the door open and close, the lock shutting with a soft snick. He felt the bed dip, and he rolled away from the intruder, shrugging off the hand that ended up on his shoulder, squeezing softly. A familiar hand and a familiar squeeze.

“Go away,” Dean groused.

The weight on the bed disappeared, and footsteps retreated.

“Wait,” Dean croaked, rolling over and pushing himself off the bed, following the footsteps.

Strong arms wrapped around Dean’s form, pulling him close, placing a kiss into his dirty blond curls. Dean’s breath hitched and he cried into the other man’s shirt. He was eased onto the sofa, arms still around his shoulders, hand running through his hair as he sobbed into the shirt.

“You haven’t processed things,” the voice said, so very familiar, soothing, and needed. “Talk it out with me.”

Dean pulled away, curling on the far end of the sofa.

“I thought you went to get drinks with the rest of them,” Dean wiped his eyes, feeling very un-majestic and unattractive.

“Changed my mind, doesn’t take too long to get here from the bar,” he smirked, throwing an arm over the back of the sofa.

“I just,” Dean’s voice cracked again. He cleared his throat. “I didn’t think this would hurt this much. I thought I was over this, over us. What used to be us?”

He looked everywhere except at the other, who reached out to take Dean’s hand, pulling him softly back into his embrace, settling Dean’s back to his chest, free arm looping over the planes of muscle and slightly chubby belly, holding him tight.

Dean turned his head, catching rough lips with his own. The other hummed into the kiss, something fond and familiar. Strong hands easily moved Dean, pulling him into his lap, hands wrapped around Dean’s waist, keeping him close.

“Fuck, Jed,” Dean groaned.

“That wasn’t my intention when I came here,” Jed mumbled into Dean’s lips. “But if things take us there…”

Jed’s hands moved to rub slow circles on Dean’s back, fingers feeling out every knot in the taught muscles. He kneaded at the knots, earning himself a grateful purr. Dean leaned forward, presenting more of his back to Jed, melting into Jed’s touch.

“Keep going and you’ll put me to sleep,” Dean mumbled.

“Would that really be such a bad thing?”

“If I sleep then I miss out on your touch.”

“I think before you enjoy any more of my touch, you need to have a talk with a certain leader of our company, your highness.”

Dean froze and drew away, “I know I should.”

“But?”

“Jed, I’m more than a little scared to confront him right now. We broke things off during the break, and now we’re back working together, and I don’t know if this will be awkward or okay.”

“I think you need to put your big boy pants on, channel your inner Fili, and get over there and talk to him,” Jed gently pinched Dean’s ass.

Dean jumped, “hey! Yeah, I guess you’re right. Will you be here when I get back?”

Jed kissed the side of his neck, “probably not, but you’ll know where to find me, if you remember the way.”

Dean laughed once, more of a cough than a laugh. “Not hard to find your trailer. Just look for the stolen spoons.”

“Hey now, that was just that once. Maybe twice. And some gold from the troll hoard.”

Dean stood with a sigh, casting a sad look back at the man on the sofa, who waved him towards the door.

“You can do it, darling.” Jed said, wrapping his arms around Dean’s shoulders, pressing a kiss into his neck. “Don’t do it for me, do it for you. Do it for him. I’m behind whatever choice you make.”

Dean was gone with the door clicking back after him; he shoved his hands in his pockets, threading his way through the trailer park towards Richard’s trailer, a light shining in the window. He climbed the metal steps, took a deep breath, and knocked.

Richard threw the door open and glared down at Dean, his glare softening slightly, the scowl remaining.

“Dean.” He said curtly with a nod.

“Richard, uh, hi,” Dean chewed his lip. “Thought you went out drinking? But listen, can we talk? Now that’s it’s a little more private, yeah?”

“I bailed out early. Those boys were too rambunctious.” He chewed his own lip. “Yes, come on in,” Richard stepped away, shutting the door behind Dean.

Richard dropped onto the sofa, Dean paced.

“I honestly don’t know which one of us should be the pissed one. Perhaps both of us,” Dean shrugged. “I mean you called it off, but we both kind of just slacked off towards the end there.”

Richard patted the cushion next to him, leaning out to catch Dean’s arm when he didn’t pay attention and kept pacing.

“Sit down, this is nothing to be nervous or angry about.”

Dean sat with a huff, facing Richard but closing himself off.

“I didn’t want this to end,” he said quietly. “I wanted to work through the distance, but it was just so hard. Richard, I know you sacrificed sleep just to talk with me and to Skype with me, and I appreciate that, but…”

Dean’s whining was cut short by Richard’s lips over his, swallowing the last “but” and everything that came after. Dean started, eyes going wide at first, slowly closing and leaning into the kiss. His arms wrapped around Richard’s neck, hand fisting into his hair and his shirt. Richard pressed him down into the sofa, framing Dean’s head as they kissed and bit and licked skin as it was hurriedly exposed. Months of frustration and anguish melted away with every layer.

When Dean fell apart, he almost sobbed. Nothing could quite be like the man above him, slick with sweat and the sheen of lust.

“I missed you,” Richard murmured, kissing the side of Dean’s neck before pulling away to find a damn washcloth.

Dean almost cried. Months of nothing, a whirlwind of an afternoon, and nothing more than “I missed you”? None of the usual tender words, the placations, the silly pillow talk discussing Tolkien and Shakespeare.

“What’s with that face?” Richard asked fondly, wiping the drying semen free from Dean’s chest.

“We can’t go back, can we?” Dean asked in a quiet voice.

Richard bit his lip and looked away briefly. The only answer Dean needed.

“Do you have your closure? Can we be civil during the shoot?”

“I can if you can,” Richard held out his hand, cloth discarded, to help Dean to his feet.

Dean wavered slightly, watching as Richard pulled his jeans back on, the light playing on the planes of his chest and shoulders, highlighting the muscles of his arms and deepening the shadows around his neck and collarbones. Never had Dean wanted his camera with him, to pose Richard, to snap endless photographs to keep the memory of what they had alive.

But that would be irresponsible. A teenager’s desperate clinging to what they once had, pining over something that was now out of reach.

He was pulled into Richard’s chest, hugged tight, a small kiss dropped on the top of his head. And he was crying. Finally, after months of torment, and torture, and distraction thanks to Ben and Jed, the dam around his emotions broke. Richard sank back to the sofa, carefully guiding Dean into his lap, keeping his arms around Dean’s shoulders, and rocked him gently. From the shuddering movement beneath him, Dean knew Richard was crying as well. The strong, stoic man on set crying into Dean’s hair.

What would the others think?

Who the fuck cares what the others think. He knew Richard like no one else did. He knew him physically, intimately, mentally. He respected and loved Richard, and as hard as it was, he was willing to let him go.

Dean wasn’t aware of when he fell asleep curled against Richard’s chest, but he woke sharply, sitting up and freeing himself from the tangle of arms, looking around and blinking. His heart still bled, but that small contact, that final coupling helped to close the gaping hole in his soul.

“Hey,” Richard said softly, setting down the book he was reading by weak lamplight.

“Sorry,” Dean said, pulling farther away, moving to the opposite end of the sofa. He scooted through the still damp spot and frowned.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. No,” Dean sighed, “better than I was before? Thank you.”

“Anytime. Think we can still be friends?”

Dean nodded slowly, “yes, I think that’s possible.”

“With benefits?” Richard pressed quirking one brow to match his playful smirk.

“Too soon for that, Armitage,” Dean wagged a finger at him, his smile betraying his stern tone.

“You should get dressed and get back,” Richard nodded.

Dean stood and fished around for his hastily discarded clothes, smoothing out as many rumples as he could. Richard saw him to the door, hugging him once before shutting the door behind him. He heard the thump of Richard sagging against the door.

That had been just as draining for Richard as it had been for Dean.

Once more, Dean’s hands found their way into his pockets, fingers fussing with his phone, as he wove his way to Jed’s trailer.

Jed answered on the second knock, looking sleep-rumpled and utterly beautiful.

“Things went well?” Jed surmised.

“I think so. I think we both needed that.”

Jed didn’t ask. Jed never had to ask. He invited Dean in, putting his hand on the small of Dean’s back, fingers splaying protectively, possessively.

“Come on, little lion man, let’s get you to bed, we’ll talk things over in the morning.”

**Author's Note:**

> insaneboingo has infected me with her love of the actors Ri.


End file.
